The Birthday from Hell
by StatsGrandma57
Summary: Sick children do not a good birthday make. Leia just wants some sleep and for Han to return ASAP, preferably in that order. Chapter 3 is up and yes, we get a nice ending :)
1. Chapter 1

THE BIRTHDAY FROM HELL

Chapter 1

Leia was exhausted. All three babies had been sick with respiratory infections, most likely picked up at the nursery. Leia was astonished to learn that children were not only messy, noisy, and demanding; they were little disease breeders as well.

Han was normally helpful, but the _Falcon_ hyperdrive began to misbehave for the n + ith time, and he and Chewie had detoured to Tralus for repairs, meaning that he'd be delayed another day.

Threepio, despite his best intentions, had been unsuccessful in his attempts to care for the children; if he tried to comfort one, he or she would burst into yet another round of crying.

"Mistress Leia," Threepio said, "is there anything I can do?"

"How are you at laundry and dishes?" she asked wearily. She was holding a fussy Jacen against her shoulder as she kicked a laundry basket along the floor. The children had developed gastrointestinal issues as a result of their illnesses. Diapers were not something the protocol droid was capable of dealing with; he'd never been programmed to do so and despite having no sense of smell, he seemed to find it revolting.

"I'm afraid I'm not programmed for such things. Artoo is quite good at serving food and drinks, but I'm not even good for that." Threepio sounded as if he was upset that he had disappointed her.

"Can you make a cup of stim-tea?" Leia asked as she took one last kick at the laundry basket and began a bouncy gait in hopes of comforting her inconsolable older son.

"That I can do, madame. I shall fix some immediately." The droid seemed far too happy to be able to do something, but at this point, Leia was going to accept any help she could.

"Thank you." She rhythmically paced with Jacen on her shoulder, singing the Alderaanian lullabye her mother had sung to her as a small child. Finally, he calmed sufficiently that Leia tiptoed into the bedroom and laid her first son as gently as possible into his crib. As she crept out of the room, Threepio called that the stim-tea was ready.

Her throat hurt and her eyes felt as if there was sand in them, but she had barely managed any sleep at all in the last day. The long, thick braid she'd put in her hair two days prior was coming apart, strands of hair flying everywhere, her hair clips somewhere that she couldn't even remember and at the moment she could have not cared less about, never mind that they'd been an anniversary gift from Han and she cherished them. She'd gotten out of her work clothes when she'd taken the kids out of nursery two days back, but the soft black pants and the comfortable shirt the color of a turquoise sky had taken a beating since then; dried drool, mucus and vomit covered them. If the babies would only sleep long enough so that she could get in the shower, she swore she'd feel like a new woman.

No sooner had Threepio served her the tea, with some honey and citrus juice on the side, than a wail came out of the bedroom. Leia identified it as Anakin. Leia had hoped that between still being a nursing baby and only two months old he'd have gotten a reprieve, but he was ailing as well.

"Let me know when to warm the tea," Threepio said to her as she headed for the babies' room.

"Don't hold your breath," was Leia's weary, muttered response.

Leia cradled two month old Anakin in her arms, hoping he would eat. He'd been refusing the breast the last day; he would take some sips of water, but one of the symptoms of the virus that had taken them was an extremely sore throat. Just getting the twins, now eighteen months old, to sip juice or water was a challenge. The fever was not supposed to be damaging to young children, but the dehydration could. And in children, bacta was useless. The one thing Threepio did have to coordination for was to dropper feed the children and this was yet another opportunity to hone his skills.

Leia put Anakin on her breast and he began to suck eagerly, but moments later, he withdrew and began screaming again.

"Perhaps I should order some electrolytic fluid?" Threepio asked solicitously.

"I think we have to."

"Leave it to me, madame," Threepio said graciously.

"Threepio, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I only wish I was able to assist you more," the golden protocol droid said wistfully as he filled a syringe with a fruit flavored liquid. "I'll order the electrolytics from the chemist forthwith."

"Here's hoping they have some left in stock." This particular virus was slamming Coruscant like a giant asteroid. "Oh, and Mistress Leia, I don't mean to fuss, but you are looking somewhat pale."

"Threepio, I'm always pale," Leia said. "I'm going to try to drink some stim-tea."

"I'll warm it for you."

She held Anakin while he fussed. Threepio was adding drops very slowly so that Anakin wouldn't choke or cry. Leia had called the chemist the previous day to get some anesthetic spray but there was none in stock - at twenty different chemists.'

Her comm chimed gently; it was probably Han. Threepio took a momentary break from getting fluid into Anakin to retrieve it. Leia tried to nurse her baby again.

"It's Captain Solo," Threepio announced, handing Leia the comm. Despite all their years together, Threepio continued to refer to Han as Captain Solo and Leia as madame or Mistress Leia. The formality seemed to suit Threepio and neither complained.

"Sweetheart, I think we can make it by tonight," Han said to her. "But me and Chewie are gonna be there tonight. How're our babies?"

"Not well. As you can see, they're all still sick and I can't get Anakin to nurse."

"You look exhausted," Han said gently. "You feeling okay?"

"I just need some sleep," Leia said.

"Any chance of Luke helping out?"

"It's hit Yavin, too. Mara has it, and I can't ask him to leave her."

"The way it's going, he's probably got it, too. Everyone we've been in contact with either has it or has someone they know with it."

Despite her exhaustion, she noted that Han looked as weary as she felt.

"Are you all right?" Leia asked him.

"I'm fine." It occurred to Leia that he wasn't looking or sounding great, but then again, he and Chewie paid little attention to things like food and sleep while on a marathon Outer Rim delivery run.

"Hurry home," Leia pleaded.

"That's the idea. Besides, I don't wanna miss your birthday."

Leia had forgotten all about that. And right now, celebrating was the last thing on her mind.

The perfect present, she thought, would be a night of uninterrupted sleep. Based on the present situation, it looked as if that might happen - when their kids turned eighteen.


	2. Chapter 2

THE BIRTHDAY FROM HELL

Chapter 2

Finally, Han and Chewie landed on their designated pad on Coruscant. Han likened it to free parking, something that was rare in much of the galaxy. He'd seen a lot of it the last two weeks and was thoroughly finished. He'd even passed up a side stop at Mos Eisley, something he rarely did. Despite the delays due to the _Falcon _behaving like a high maintenance lady (which she was), Han was determined to be home by Leia's birthday.

He'd gotten there with only seven hours to spare. But it was seven more.

{I'll get her ready}, Chewie said to Han. Chewie was headed for his home planet to be at Lumpy's crossbow ceremony. Lumpy was now old enough to have his own; it was a very important rite of passage on Kashyyyk, essentially saying that the young one was a man, at least in terms of hunting. Chewie would be gone for two weeks. Han had flight trainees but there were no runs during that time; Chewie would take the _Falcon_. Chewie had offered to take a transport but it would have taken three or four times as long to get home, and Han insisted that he take his ship.

"Thanks, pal."

{You look awful}.

"You're not exactly alluring yourself," Han retorted.

{You're sick}.

"I am not. I just need some sleep." The truth was, Han was extremely tired and had something of a headache, although this wasn't unusual after a long run. He had sick babies and Leia didn't look well on their last comm. He might not get any sleep tonight, but Leia was going to get some if it killed him.

The way he was feeling right now, it might.

"Not a scratch, y'hear?" Han said to Chewie.

{Get outta here, cub}, Chewie rumbled at Han.

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving!" Han raised his hands in self defense.

Since he was going to be away for so long, he'd taken a transport and left the speeder with Leia. Someday, he said to himself, we've gotta get another one. Of course, that begged the question: where were they going to park it? Their complex allowed one speeder or other vehicle per apartment. Traffic on Coruscant was generally insane, worse at commute times but never what one could call navigable.

Han grabbed one of the local transports on the monorail that went very close to their apartment complex. Me and 50 thousand of my most intimate friends, he grumbled to himself as he grabbed a strap and hung on. There was plenty of snifflng and sneezing and coughing surrounding him. It had been that way while on the Outer Rim, and now it was taking Coruscant by storm.

Han remembered having the Corellian tanamen fever when he was about fifteen. Dewlanna had cared for him. She had been the only one who cared if he lived or died, and images of her now swam before his eyes.

If only she were here, Han thought. She'd have loved Leia and the kids. She'd have taken good care of all of them. Dewlanna was the closest thing he'd ever had to a mother. She would have loved being a 'grandmother.'

We could use one about now, Han mumbled to himself as he stepped off after what seemed to be about an 80 kilometer ride. In truth, it was one-tenth of that. He stepped off the platform, his travel pack slung over one shoulder, his headache worsening with every step.

He'd soon be home, in their apartment where every square inch of space had been overtaken by toys and baby gear. More than a few times he'd tripped over the entire zoo of stuffed animals; everyone seemed to think Jaina, Jacen and Anakin didn't have enough, so more animals were constantly being added. Han wouldn't have been surprised if there were replicas of every creature in the galaxy.

He was looking forward to being in Leia's arms again, to hugging his three kids, to sleeping in a comfortable bed. He was so tired, so very, very tired...

Any hopes he had of getting any sleep were dashed as he stepped into the apartment, the sound of three crying babies and a frazzled Leia.

He headed over to where Leia was trying to comfort Jacen as she screamed his lungs out. Jaina and Anakin were crying but somewhat less loudly.

"Welcome home," Leia said, kissing him quickly. Han noticed immediately that her voice was nearly gone, and that her temperature, noticeable from her lips, was warmer than usual. Her voice was thin and raspy.

"I guess I should try to calm these guys down, shouldn't I?" Han said, grabbing a baby in each arm.

So this is parenthood, he said to himself.

"Tell me again why I wanted little Solos," he said to Leia, punctuated by a hard cough.

"Tell me again why I agreed to it."


	3. Chapter 3

THE BIRTHDAY FROM HELL

Chapter 3

Han and Leia had hoped that the babies would soon be overcome by enough exhaustion that they might sleep.

No such luck.

Jaina, ordinarily easily calmed by her father, was inconsolable, alternating screaming with whining. Han wasn't feeling any better than she was; both were feverish and had shaking chills. He pressed Jaina against him, a blanket tucked over the both of them. He and Leia moved the babies in a round robin fashion. Right now, Anakin was actually dozing next to Han and Jaina; Leia, also wrapped in a blanket, was walking the floor with a very unhappy Jacen.

This scene repeated itself over and over during the night and the next day.

"I can't keep doing this," Leia moaned. Threepio was constantly supplying them with herbal tea, trying to help any way he could. The twins loved him, but Threepio's strengths did not include caring for sick children. He ran for blankets and made soup, and did everything he could, but his repertoire was fairly limited.

Leia sat down next to Han and the babies. Just as she had gotten Jacen comfortable, her comm went off.

"Luke, how are you?" Leia was so hoarse she could barely speak.

"I think about the same as you." Luke sounded terrible. "Mara's better, at least. Anyway, I wanted to wish you a happy birthday."

"Oh my gods, my brain...I'd forgotten. Well, happy birthday to you, Luke."

"I plan to spend it in bed. How're you guys doing?"

"Well, let's see...Han and I are sick, the babies are sick, I think that about covers it."

"That bad, huh? Well, looks like we're gonna have less than happy birthdays. I'm lucky that I can at least stay in bed."

"I think we still have a bed. I dream about it."

"We'll celebrate another time. Hope you can get some sleep."

"No kidding." Jacen was fussing again. Leia held him close. Han lifted Anakin, who really needed a diaper change, and staggered towards the babies' room.

Han came out, clean baby held against his chest. "I think we should all just get into our bed and try to get some sleep."

Leia, by now beyond exhausted, hoped that enough weariness had overtaken the babies that maybe, just maybe, they might enjoy curling up in bed with their parents, or at least not complain as loudly.

It took some settling in, but finally, at long last, the babies were asleep, as were their parents.

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Leia heard and felt rustling next to her. Anakin was waking up, but instead of wailing piteously as he had the past few days, he was simply indicating that at long last, he was hungry.

Leia still felt awful, her muscles aching, her head throbbing, her throat raw. But when she brushed her hand against her baby's forehead and supported his neck as he eagerly began nursing, his skin was cooler. He eagerly suckled at his mother's breast, something he'd been unable to do for a few days. She gazed at her tiny son lovingly.

As Anakin went about his business, Leia smiled as she looked at her husband and twins. Han was still flushed as he slept a bit restlessly, but his snoring was reassuring. He had one twin in the crook of his arm and the other sleeping on his chest.

Leia had to smile. Their lives never were perfect and never would be, but to have her family close to her, for her, was more than enough to make up for the birthday from hell.

It was like, in a sense, how it had been in wartime. She had to admit that while the war had been horrible, far more than she'd ever imagined, but there were perfect moments among the ruins and death.

And this was one of them.

If there was anything she'd learned, things didn't have to be perfect to have a perfect moment.


End file.
